A song for pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem.

1From my earliest youth my enemies have persecuted me.

Let all Israel repeat this:

2From my earliest youth my enemies have persecuted me,

but they have never defeated me.

3My back is covered with cuts,

as if a farmer had plowed long furrows.

4But the Lord is good;

he has cut me free from the ropes of the ungodly.

5May all who hate Jerusalem^a

be turned back in shameful defeat.

6May they be as useless as grass on a rooftop,

turning yellow when only half grown,

7ignored by the harvester,

despised by the binder.

8And may those who pass by

refuse to give them this blessing:

“The Lord bless you;

we bless you in the Lord’s name.”